


Skin to Bone

by orphan_account



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: AU Incest, Brothers still be bangin', Graphic Violence, Graphic deaths, I fucked up, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, here be magic even if it doesn't seem like it, horror so much horror, into the dumpster I go, literal magic magical universe AU, seriously this is the most fucked up thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sticks and stones may break my bones--</p><p>So began another day in the Hamada household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin to Bone

* * *

 

**Sticks and stones will break my bones.**

 

* * *

 

 

“Hiro…” His name is his first gentle nudge back to consciousness, followed by the way the edge of the bed dips under a new weight. Hiro wrinkles his nose, barely acknowledging the way his eyelids show the glow of the day; not an imperceptible black, but a soft orange.

“Hiro?”

No. It’s not fair; he was up really late last night, and Tadashi knows it. As well as _he_ knows he’s being woken at the same time, because he’s _always_ woken at the same time. A soft, annoyed grunt, and he pulls the blanket over his eyes.

“C’mon buddy; anyone home in there?” Tadashi leans over him, one hand pressing into the pillow beside his face. The other cards gently through his hair; if he isn’t careful, his big brother really is going to send him right back to sleep…

“Alright, I see how it is. I’ll give you to the count of three. One.” The hand in his hair shifts, sneaking under the blankets. Over to his sides. Fingers poised. “ _Two-_ ”

“Don’t you dare!” No. He hates tickling, and Tadashi knows he hates it; making it the ultimate weapon of destruction in situations like these. Eyes opening wide, he jerks away from the _jerk_ —

And promptly falls out of bed, much to Hiro’s mortification, and his brother’s raucous laughter.

So began another day in the Hamada household.

“You’re such a jerk!” Hiro thumps down every step heavily, pulling a hoody over his head along the way. Anyone would think Tadashi would have _some_ respect for his beloved, endearing little brother.

Not so. He’s still laughing.

“Well maybe if you get up, next time- ow!” He holds up his hands in a defeated gesture as Hiro aims an elbow at his stomach, grinning from ear to ear. “Alright, alright- no more tickling. But you know if I didn’t get you up, you’d miss breakfast. And then Aunt Cass would fuss.”

Eesh. Hiro cringes a little, just thinking about it. If there was anything their aunt was a stickler for, it was ensuring they had the best diet possible. Three square meals, not too many sweet things, lots of water.

If he missed breakfast she’d probably hover all day, convinced he’d taken ill in the night, or something. He wouldn’t be able to stay up late for weeks. And that meant less time for his own things.

“Okay, point taken. But no more tickling!” He points at Tadashi threateningly, keeping a wary eye on his hands as he approaches.

“No more.” He promises solemnly, skirting around Hiro at a respectful distance and heading towards the fridge. The café would already be open by now, as it always was; their aunt had more mouths to feed than just the gluttons that were her nephews, but sure enough, she’d still prepared something for them. Hiro sits himself down as Tadashi brings it to the table; yoghurt, blueberries, milk, some cooked kale, likely for toast if they felt like making it. Hiro pulls the bowl of greens towards himself, as well as the salt.

Might as well start with the worst, work to the best.

“You want toast, or would that be a waste of time?”

“Sit down, nerd.” Hiro waves a hand at him, speaking around a mouthful. “Toast’st just gon’ go to waste.”

“Right.” He doesn’t sit right away. An expression crosses Tadashi’s face; something odd. Something out of place. Like he’s frozen out of time, suddenly lost in the setting before him. Hiro gives him a few moments, only prompting him when it’s clear Tadashi isn’t coming back to reality on his own.

“Tadashi?”

“Mm?” And then it’s gone, brown eyes meeting his own, almost identical ones, smile slowly forming back on lips that just looked…empty, without it. “Sorry; spaced out there. You going to share any of that?”

“Nope.” He keeps his eye on Tadashi as he sits down, calmly taking to his fruit with the corner of his spoon; cutting them into finer pieces before dropping them into the yoghurt.

He’s been doing that a lot lately. Spacing out.

“You sure _I’m_ the one staying up too late?” Gentle persistence; off topic enough that Tadashi can easily turn it back around on him if he wants to. The elder male shifts almost uncomfortably, taking a spoonful of his concoction of dairy and fruits before even attempting to reply.

“Pretty sure. Speaking of sleeping habits; you gotta stop staying up so late. You’re going to drop to the ground any day now.”

“Pfft, sure. I’m _fourteen_ ; fourteen year olds don’t need sleep.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they do…”

“Not.”

Their teasing lifts the mood almost immediately, falling back into an easy pattern of affection and mocking as they finish off their meal, as they clean up after themselves. Tadashi washes and Hiro dries; which turns out to be a mistake, since he keeps getting flicked with dishwater.

Then it’s time to get dressed. Go downstairs, say hi to Aunt Cass. She pulls them both into an enthusiastic hug, babbling something about how busy it is and practically ordering them into the garage until lunch is ready, which suits Hiro just fine. Busy enough not to have time to pay attention; not so busy that she’s asking them for their help.

The garage is his favourite place in the whole world.

It’s their space. Just Tadashi and him. Working on separate projects more often than not, there’s something natural about it, simple. With some odd playlist crooning at them softly in the background, or even the radio, there’s not much more to it than that; they don’t even speak when passing tools. It just happens, automatic. Soundless.

Hiro feels best when he’s creating for himself. Which isn’t something he gets to do all that often. Things break in the café all the time; new ideas come into Aunt Cass’ head on an almost daily basis; why don’t you boys make an automated pancake dispenser? Self-serve barista station. New heating irons for the cake stand. There’s a list waiting for them when they enter, and without so much as a word, they take charge of whatever item speaks to them most, and get to work.

Sometimes he talks to them. The machines, like they can hear him. And Tadashi’s right there; he knows what Hiro’s doing, couldn’t help but overhear if he tried. If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. And they never talk about it.

“Well fancy seeing you around here.” Ah, the ceiling fan. The one from the second oven; he’d only fixed it a few days ago. Seriously, broken again? He hefts it up onto the desk with some difficulty; not only is it heavy, but it’s a little oversized, making gripping it a little difficult. “Can’t…hh…stay away from me, can you?”

His only answer is the loud thunk when Hiro finally gets it into position.

The drive shaft is loose again. How it keeps managing to do that, he doesn’t know, but Hiro tightens the fixtures all the same, checking the hardware over for any signs of rust, cleaning away the grease to ensure it hasn’t made its any crevices, started causing the problems. The grease containment unit gets a good checking over as well, because it should be _stopping_ that problem before it even starts, and for good measure? The cooling motor has a proper diagnosis run on it as well.

“You know, you’re pretty solid. And I mean like, _heavy_ solid. You should be working fine- you can work fine, you’re just choosing not to. Be the fan, fan. Be the fan.”

It takes a good, solid amount of time to work it over, but by the end of it, Hiro feels pleased, wiping his cheek and knowing for sure that he’s probably just smeared grease all over it. The fan seems pleased as well—so sure, that’s a thing.

Stretching out, Hiro exhales loudly, spinning round to face his brother and make a little light conversation again. “Man, what time is it? I’m already hungry—think aunt Cass is busy enough that I can sneak in a few gummy…”

He’s spaced out again. Staring down at his hands in an almost absent fashion, Tadashi stares at the object held between them, spinning it between his fingers idly. He’s been spacing out a lot, sure, and it’s….getting worse. Almost like clockwork, every few hours.

But this is the first time he’s made a gun.

“Tada—” Hiro can’t finish calling out. His throat closes up. Mouth dry, he watches his brother, watching the gun. Playing with it like a toy, almost examining it in the way he twists and turns it in his hands. Quite suddenly, he’s aware of just how sweaty his palms are. If he startles him, will it go off? Did Tadashi fashion bullets to go along with the eerily well-crafted casing, or is it just a model? Just a toy? What if it hits him? What if Tadashi hits himself?

What does he do?

“Hey guys! Time to fuel those hungry brains; I brought you some lunch for all your hard work.” The garage door opens, making way for Aunt Cass and her usual, impeccably presented tray of food. Hiro flinches, as if he’s the one being caught out in the act. Even Tadashi jerks, head whipping upwards and eyes narrowed.

He points the weapon at her, and the sound of the safety flicking off is both audible and damning. No way that isn’t a real gun.

“ _Tadashi_!” Hiro jolts forwards as the tray drops to the floor with a loud clatter, taking a hold of his brother’s arm and putting all of his weight onto it; if he was thinking far enough, maybe he’d be a little surprised that it takes that much to force his arm to point down. Blessedly, it doesn’t go off anyway.

Even better, Tadashi jerks as if he’s been slapped, looking to Hiro in surprise, then down at what he’s holding. Dropping it a moment later.

“Hiro; I—wh—”

“Tadashi Hamada, you scared the pants off of me!” Aunt Cass scolds him from the doorway. Hiro looks on in disbelief as she laughs, slowly releasing his brother’s limb, taking a cautious step back as Tadashi runs a hand through his hair. He looks about as bewildered as Hiro feels. “Cheeky; I gave you that to fix, not to make toys out of.”

“Toys? I—yeah. I guess I wasn’t really watching what I was doing.” Tadashi frowns, eyes going to Hiro. He’s not…sure how to approach him again, now that the danger has passed. Not when it seems like it could reappear any moment; so Hiro avoids his gaze, looking stubbornly at the ground. At the gun.

“Well next time, forewarn me? We could’ve made that so much more dramatic; without wasting food. You know—” Aunt Cass makes a disturbing choking sound, clutching at her stomach and slumping against the doorway, and they all laugh.

Except there’s nothing really funny about what just happened, and as Aunt Cass cleans up the spoiled food, waving off Tadashi’s apologies with a breezy tone, Hiro can tell she doesn’t think so either.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m going to bed soon, Aunt Cass.” She was watching a horror movie; one of the cheesy, B grade ones, as she was often want to do. Looking away from the television, she offered him a soft smile, one that was readily returned.

“Alright, sweetie; brushed your teeth?”

“Yes Aunt Cass.”

“Flossed?”

“Yes, Aunt Cass.”

“Good. C’mere, you little nerd.” She opens her arms, and chuckling, Hiro leans down, allowing the comfortable embrace. It’s been…a weird day. Maybe after some sleep, it wouldn’t seem so weird.

“Hiro?” Aunt Cass says softly; her fingers run through his hair, familiar and steady. He closes his eyes to the sensation, a smile pulling at his lips. Weird day or not, it was another day with his family. He loved that.

“Yeah, Aunt Cass?”

“Today…in the garage. Tadashi seemed a little…” She pauses, trying to find the words. “Off. Did something happen?”

“Oh.” Of course. Hiro shifts, pulling away to perch down next to her, leaning into his aunt’s side when she lifts up his arm. “I don’t think so. He’s been a little spacey lately, but not like that. Just losing himself in thought—at least, that’s what he says. I dunno…”

“Hm…” Her lips purse, looking back to the television as she turns it over in her head. Hiro couldn’t blame her for the concern; he was starting to get worried too, and today had simply eclipsed that. The time he and Tadashi had spent together had never felt so strained before, to the point where he was shooed upstairs instead of helping out with the dishes from the café.

Guiltily, he’d actually accepted the offer to escape.

“I’m sure he’s alright. Working too hard, probably, but fine.” Aunt Cass ruffles his hair, wagging a finger in his face a moment later. “No more late nights, deal? How Tadashi can get any sleep with you tinkering away, I’ll never know.”

“Heh…sure.” So she’d noticed. Leaning in for another, brief hug, Hiro stands, making his way to the stairs. “Night, Aunt Cass.”

“Good night Hiro.”

By the time he reaches the upper landing, Hiro’s more tired than he has been in weeks. Shrugging off his clothes, he can’t…be bothered to collect them from where they fall, pulling out some pjs and collapsing down onto his bed.

Today was weird. That was all. Too weird.

Tomorrow would be better.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hiro waits for Tadashi to join him, eyes following the slight smudges of paint, the parts where it had almost dripped. Last minute paint job, but it was mildly entertaining. No matter how many times he looked up, there was always a new smudge to find…

He could have been laying there for minutes. Maybe an hour. Not really thinking of anything at all, the teen just lets himself veg out, listening for the creak of the stairs that would announce, as always, his brothers ascent into their domain.

What he hears instead is a very loud bang.

“Aunt Cass? Tadashi?” Hiro sits up immediately. Calling out gets no answer, and everything just goes—quiet. The usual sounds from outside, gone. No passing cars, no voices from the sidewalk below.

It goes eerily quiet. Eerily fast.

The first bang is quickly followed by a second.

Heart pounding in his chest, Hiro gets up. A moments thought and he’s crossing the room, snatching up the bat that rests in the gap between his brother’s bed and his desk. Their stairs really aren’t the quietest in the house; he has to take care going down them, trying hard to make as little noise as possible.

Not that it matters, because the noises get louder, more frequent. It’s like—something being slammed into a solid surface, and forgoing caution, he takes the last few steps in leaps and bounds.

Nothing seems wrong until he looks into the kitchen.

Tadashi’s on the ground. Face red, blood vessels popping in his eyes. His struggles get weaker and weaker as Hiro looks on, as he reaches behind him and attempts to claw off his assailant, hands in a vice grip round his neck, nails digging into his skin.

She’s going to kill him. Aunt Cass is going to kill Tadashi.

“ _Tadashi!_ ”

The bat drops onto the ground. It clatters loudly on the wood flooring, drawing the attention of the room’s occupants. Tadashi looks panicked, scared. Giving up on his struggles just so he can reach out a hand, one that Hiro will take the moment he gets Aunt Cass _off-_

“Hiro! _Hiro!_ ”

He’s never bolted upright in bed so fast. Gasping and gulping, like he can’t get enough air, he looks over at his brother; wide eyed and alarmed, before pulling him into a tight hug. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I—I had a nightmare.”

“What about?”

Hiro opens his mouth. Closes it. Leaning back, he allows Tadashi to gently cup his cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t push him any further than that; just waits for Hiro to be ready to say something; tell him what’s on his mind.

“I don’t remember.”

 

 

 

 

So begins another day in the Hamada household.


End file.
